THE GOOD BUCK

I went for my jab on Monday. That was a slick affair. In and out. A few people online have had a bad reaction to it. Not as bad as, say, choking out your last breaths on a respirator, but not pleasant. I had an extreme reaction to the malaria jab in the army and that was awful, but this time I was fine. Wendy had a sore arm and a mild plague weakness the next day, which went with painkillers, so nothing to write home about. Lisa was dog tired. I didn’t even get a sore arm. The next day I had a headache all day and felt sick, but I get that quite frequently anyway. So either I didn’t get any reaction or the reaction was no worse than a headache day. I’ll take that. I was working on Tuesday and I got a run to Bristol. That was a nice day out. I was riding in to work in the morning without any gloves moaning “I may lose digits to frostbite”, in the afternoon I was Darn Sarf, baking in 23C moaning “no human can survive in this heat!” On Wednesday it was still quite warm, lockdown is lifting, and I was off, so I took my new bike for a spin up to Workington (top of the Lakes on the coast). It does everything it says on the tin. Comfy, 46 mpg at a steady 90 (allegedly) with lots of big overtakes. 160 miles to the tank. It has an old fashioned needle fuel gauge which was in the red and I was panicking thinking I was running on fumes in the middle of the sticks. When I looked up my tank capacity when I got home I still had another 3.3 litres, (which is a fifth of a tank) or 30+ miles, left. So at the speed limit you can say it is good for 50mpg and over 200 miles to a tank. My old bike (which is a 600cc compared to the new one’s 1000cc) was 28mpg when I got it and screaming for fuel at 100 miles. I bought a power commander and that put the mpg up into the 30s, but it still wasn’t good. The one thing I did notice is the front end isn’t as confident or planted as you’d normally expect on a Honda. I’ve ordered a new set of upgraded head bearings from the States and bought some thicker fork oil. There’s a local garage that will fit it for me cheaply. Other than that the CBF1000 forum said you can drop the forks a smidge and put spacers in to make them stiffer. I’ll try all of that then maybe fit a steering damper if that all fails. Not big jobs, but if you’ve got a very powerful bike, that’s also a chunky monkey, you have to feel like the front end is planted. Yesterday, Thursday, this was a happy sight, after 5 months. A proper shame […]

That is totally the last time I buy a shed. I’ve spent all week like “WHAT WAS I THINKING?!” The shed people were so negative about the fitting crew (£285 to fit, if it’s not perfectly level we won’t fit it, if we don’t think there’s adequate access we won’t fit it, if the day has a ‘Y’ in it we won’t fit it) that I decided to have a go at building it myself. I thought if Wendy was just to hold the sides upright I could bolt them in and throw the roof on myself. As it turns out the doctors are messing her about something fierce, she’s had to get up early for three days, ring the surgery at 08.00 (as soon as it opens) and try to get through. They have made a total hash of their system, so rather than let you ring, get put in a queue, then get triaged, they just have an engaged signal so Wendy had to ring back every few seconds, for over an hour, 400+ calls, just to finally get told she can’t have an appointment, try again tomorrow. For 3 days. Still not got an appointment. She was stressed out about ringing anyway, them doing this to her is driving her spare. Anyway, as pertains to my plan, she couldn’t leave the front room or the ‘phone when the shed arrived. So I had to put it up all by myself. It was an ordeal. Using the clothes prop I managed to get one wall up, then it wasn’t too bad. Until I came to the roof. There is a truss you have to fit in the centre. That wasn’t too bad. But then the roof came in 4 panels. The instructions said to screw in the strengthening beams that made it into two panels, but then there would have been no way I could have lifted it into position. And the truss was only secured at each side of the shed, obviously, so was very susceptible to sideways twisting. I had three panels up at one point, trying to fit the fourth, when the truss twisted and the whole lot caved in. I thought I’d broken my brand new shed. I dusted myself off, and got back to it. It was a nightmare. Anyway, I got it up and then had to clamber over the roof to nail the felt down. That was nerve racking. It’s quite a tall roof and I was imagining it caving in again with me in the middle. I got it done. That took me 8 hours. I was aching all over. It was up but everything was still a mess. It’s still not easy to see but all the dirt was piled up under all the rubbish so it was a lot of work to sort it all out. But it was my day off today so I got it done. In the rain, obviously. Now I can turn it back […]

I got my delivery of a ton bag of sand and a ton bag of gravel on my day off, as I’d booked it. But the gravel bag was burst so they had to redeliver it the next day when I was at work. Luckily Wendy is off to take the delivery, but it meant I had to come home in the evening and wheelbarrow all the gravel around to the garden in the dark. That was less than ideal. Yesterday and today I was off work so I finished off the shed foundations, just in time for the delivery on Thursday. It ain’t pretty but it’s fair flat and functional. I’ve booked Thursday off for the delivery. Job’s a good ‘un. This morning I got an email from Tiger Sheds. Your provisional revised delivery date is the 26th. Of July! WHAT?! 4 months? I rang them straight away for confirmation and they are looking in to it and ringing me back today. More to follow. Update: They’ve just got back to me, still on for this Thursday. I don’t know if they were trying it on, or a genuine mistake, but hopefully that’s sorted now. Another faux pas was my running. I was off running for 5½ months and I’ve done precisely 11 runs since I started again. Mostly 4 or 5 miles, with one 10 miler and one 13. I was talking to someone on twitter about upcoming races and my May marathon looks a pretty safe bet to be happening. I needed to know what I had in my legs. Yesterday, on a whim, I set out to do a long run. My foot was hurting by 3 miles so there was no point in trying for damage limitation. I decided I might as well test myself for the full distance. I did a (slow, 4 hours and 42 seconds) marathon. Damn those 42 seconds! I was in misery for the last 6 miles but I was determined to stay in the 3’s so kept upping my pace and forcing myself on. Missed it by 42 seconds. After 26.2 miles. That smarts. The good news is I now know I can go the distance. And credit where it’s due, Trainer Road have maintained my fitness and stamina even when I wasn’t running. That’s good to know. The not so good news is it has destroyed my foot, but I was expecting that. I had a bad night with it last night, but it’s not too bad today. I reckon it should be functional again in a day or so. My plan, recently revised in light of my lame hoof, was to get through this year’s races then rest up for as long as it takes to make a full recovery. Now I know the bike training can keep me at 90% fitness I’m a lot happier about that. My plan now is to go back to flat pedals on my bike (when you clip in you stress […]

The shed has been a distant threat for ages, first because of the build time, then putting it on hold because of my broken shoulder, then further delay until delivery. Suddenly it’s all happening. I’ve got the sand and gravel arriving tomorrow morning, then the shed is arriving the week after. I’m hoping this time tomorrow I’ll have a nice flat surface for the shed. It’s really hard to do with mud, I’m hoping the sand will make it really easy to level off. Then lay the plastic grid things and fill with gravel. That’s strong enough to drive cars over so it will be overkill for my shed. I can’t wait to have it up. The ‘having a new shed’ thing is going to be great. The ‘getting a new shed’ thing is a bit of a nightmare. Also, to add to my stress, when I ordered the shed their website has a link to some bank that offer interest free loans for a year to spread the payments. Why not? It doesn’t cost any more and it makes it less of huge bill. I think they make their money by people running up credit they can’t afford and paying the minimum payment each month so essentially just paying the interest. I seem to recall us being in that situation at some point. Got to say, lorry driving (and not spending all the cash on beer) has completely changed things in that regard. As usual, I digress. I was approved for the 12 month loan, ordered the shed, all fine and dandy. Then I broke my shoulder, the shed was delayed and the loan agreement went past 6 months without initiating, which apparently makes it void. So I had to re-apply. They refused me! I think my time on sick pay benefits must show up on the credit report. In the end I had to pay for it in one huge lump sump. That stung. Grrrrr. Other news, which is totally splendid and has just happened as I’m typing, is I think my bike has sold. For the full asking price. It was lockdown that was deterring the punters. Some guy has asked me to hold it for two weeks until lockdown eases then he’s coming to pick it up. He’s sending me £100 deposit, which he’s totally not getting back if he backs out of it. So that’s brilliant. Yup, I’ve just got the £100. He’s coming for it the Friday after lockdown lifts. Excellent. Full asking price and not gouged for £250 by eBay! That feels good. I’ve had a few little rides on my new bike and the acceleration is a hoot. For a bike that feels a bit breathless and vibey at a ton, oddly the second gear is good from about 5mph right the way through to 80mph! It’s basically a big rev-and-rip. So much fun when you want to overtake. Blip the throttle and it’s ‘prepare for the jump to light speed, mister […]

He awoke from death a little uncertainly. The sun was shining on the dew-damp grass upon which he lay. He’d died on the pavement. He cautiously looked around, not moving his head. Grass, trees, not a building in sight. He’d died in the middle of a city. He had a vivid memory of the pavement covered in a spreading pool of his blood. His shocked face reflected in the shop window, staring back at him with a look of idiotic incomprehension, as he cradled his spilling guts in his hands. This was unbearably cruel. This hope. He closed his eyes and slowly, reluctantly,moved his hand down to his stomach. Stifling a sob he laid his hand on the gaping hole left by the bullet’s exit. His stomach was whole. Oh god, oh god. He opened his eyes and forced his gaze down. His stomach was undamaged! And he was oddly naked. He sprang to his feet and started patting every inch of himself he could reach. There were no wounds. He checked his pulse. Present. ‘This makes no sense’. It was his voice. The damp grass was still cool on his feet. He had a pulse. He was experiencing sensation. His senses were working. He breathed on his hand. Breath. Surely that means I’m still alive? But I can’t be. As an atheist he was was fighting really hard not to call this the afterlife. I’ve still got a physical body, consciousness, a pulse, breath, all the things you lose in death. He was starting to freak out. Take deep breaths. Be amazed you can take deep breaths. The only thing he could think of was this was the last dying reflex of his brain, a comforting fantasy to ease him into the void. ‘That’s the spirit. Snatch despair from the jaws of miraculous hope’. He pondered the “miraculous”, and thought it best to move on. He wanted to soak up every second of this last experience. Drink in the colours of the sun rising through the trees. Smell the crushed grass beneath his feet. Suck every possible atom of joy and sensation from this moment. What he really wanted, he realised, was a piss and some clothes. Maybe a fire. Coffee and an internet capable device. And wifi. He turned around slowly, scanning the grass until it lead into trees on all sides. None of the above. No fences, or cattle, no smoke in the sky. Nothing to indicate he wasn’t the only person in existence. Ah well. He relieved himself. He stood gazing around for a while longer, taking stock. He was fairly sure he wasn’t dead, any suitable rock would refute it thus. But that raised more questions. If he wasn’t dead, let’s go with that, he thought, if he wasn’t dead… well, everything. It was all questions after that premise. How did he get here? Why wasn’t he dead? Where were the wounds? Where were his clothes? He looked at the short grass around himself for […]